Chaque fois qu’il pleut…

As she looks out and beyond, at the huge, dark grey clouds that has filled the summer sky with its ominous presence, she experiences, not a feeling of foreboding, but one of welcoming, of embracing a long awaited respite from the heat of yesterdays.

“Are you cold?” she hears the voice of her love behind her. The shivers that cause her flesh to tremble is not from the chilly air around, but from the sound of his voice; a gentle timbre that soothes and yet excites her emotions within.

Maybe it is cold; the crisp breeze wraps her in its folds. Yes, she is cold. But as she turns toward him, her body trembles again, not from the touch of the wind, but at the heated call in her lover’s eyes. And she aches inside with the anticipation of the silent promise she sees in their depths.

The morning has now been put aside along with the cares of the day. Now, they will return indoors, to the already rumpled sheets of last night’s love making and seek that intimate pleasure, in the dark and windy weather… finally, the rains have come!

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